After Cameron Met John
by uncommoner
Summary: In the tunnels, an unexpected threat to their love. This story is on hiatus, while I finish Before Cameron Met John. I have most of it sketched out, and it will be completed May/June 2011.
1. Chapter 1

These Are Urgent Times.

John woke to the smell of coffee just breaking through the overwhelming tincture of humanity, his own included. Cameron had brought him a cup of coffee, hot and sweet as he liked it. It was good, but he really missed Starbucks. There were any number of reasons to detest Skynet, but Skynet killing the availability of street coffee was certainly high on the list.

She must have slipped out before he woke. She was always surprised when he was awake on her return and he tried to tell her was that it was her lack that woke him up. He was so used to her cyborg stillness enveloping his bones all night in a cradle of security that no matter how quietly she left, it woke him. It always did and always would.

He had not slept properly since the silver murderer had come to visit, while they were breaking his mother out of Pescadero. Terminators were one thing, hard to kill, but not completely beyond defense or destruction. Bad enough, but the silver thing was something from Dante. Even though they eventually defeated it, the spectre of it haunted him for years and was only finally expunged when the love of his life, Cameron had taken to sharing his bed.

At first, she did not understand how or why he would hold on to her, so tightly, through the nights. If he felt her leave to check a wind eddy outside, or patrol for his safety, his fears would return like the monster under the bed. She would return to the bed to find him starting the process of waking, purely because of her absence.

In a normal teenager, something to be mildly concerned at. For John Connor, these things were a reality. No "normal" person could empathize with these fears. John Connor DID have terminators from the future sent back to kill him. Take that your friendly local trick cyclist and have the child therapized out of it, why don't you?

Cameron did understand that through the years, John slept better. If she left his bed he would become agitated in short order. She designed a sub routine that responded to electric sensors reflecting movement on the mattress. It would notify her through the bunkers netcom facility if he had come out of REM sleep and was preparing to wake, so she could try to rush back to his side. Such was the love of a cyborg for her man, she thought. It was "different" to what humans feel, but in terms of what love is and what love does, she couldn't find any difference worthwhile that would matter down the years.

She used the word "love" when she spoke the ritual with John, but she never really understood whether it was what humans would call love. She was completely committed to him, only wanted to be with him, never wanted for another, to a degree that drove humans and cyborgs alike daft. Why should she concern herself with what others thought? She and John had been through some terribly difficult times and only someone who had walked a mile in their shoes could possibly understand the depth of their commitment to each other. She might be organic compound over a metal endoskeleton, while he was bones and meat, but they were inseparable like two peas in a pod.

They were both quiet this morning, that was Cameron's normal SOP, but for John, who was much chattier as a rule, it concerned her. He was often planning something dangerous or awkward, and she knew he'd tell her when the time was right. She knew, without question, that he now valued her tactical abilities greatly. He commanded humans, and would tend to design his plans around that fact. She knew both humans and machines, and would often put an element of machine thinking into the recipe that would alter outcomes considerably. At times, the resistance gave the machines too much respect for fighting ability, which of course they had in spades. What they lacked was tactical awareness, and adaptability under fire but they lacked a certain awareness that could be used against them.

One on one, human versus terminator, the human would lose every time, but a little experience, foreknowledge and planning and the stage could be levelled a good bit.

He was quiet this morning, and Cameron wondered what was on his mind.

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John stood outside the metal door that separated him from the command post of the most feared soldier of the resistance. He took three deep breaths to try and calm down, and as he raised his hand to the door to knock, a familiar lilting Scottish brogue darted through the steel as the door opened and Catherine Weaver ushered him in, "No need to stand on ceremony General Connor, you're among friends."

John edged in, "You heard me coming?"

She smiled in that superior way of hers, "Of course, General Connor, human perambulation is similar to Elephants and can be heard from miles away."

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Catherine Weaver fixed him with her patented gimlet stare. As a liquid metal terminator she could sure put the last word out on threatening stillness. The time hurried on, and he was unable to answer the question, no, statement she posed.

"You're an intelligent lad, John and you know the significance that the entire resistance is placing upon your co-operation in this matter. The human race must be re-populated as fast as is possible. Even if we are successful in defeating the machines, something by no means guaranteed, the survival of the species is in great danger unless we increase our numbers to a sustainable level."

John sighed, about to speak, but she interrupted him again.

"John, it is time. I have explained everything to you, and I have given you time, more time than I would give anyone else. I, of all your servants," she smiled that deadly smile she loved so much, servant, yeah, right. "I, of all your servants, know your difficulties, but you must comply."

"You are of breeding age, by some miracle you are healthy. Your chosen mate is unable to conceive, and therefore you must find another mate with whom to bear children as soon as is possible. If you are unable to make a choice convenient to yourself, I will appoint one for you."

John looked at her, "Catherine, she'll never wear it, not in a million years."

"She is a machine, as am I, she is also a disciplined soldier of the resistance, she will do what she is required to do, as will we all."

John shook his head, "You don't know how determined she can be."

Catherine cleared her throat, an entirely unnecessary action which had the desired conversational effect. He looked up, transfixed. Of all the terminators he'd known, she was the scariest, and she never had to do anything at all. Catherine just gave you that sideways look of hers, and your insides were turned to ice water. She was in alliance with Connor and was the enforcer when anything disagreeable needed doing, Weaver was involved somewhere. The problem was, while she was not the leader over operational matters, she was a fearsome organiser round the bases. In this matter, as everything else, she was going to get what she wanted. She must have learned something during her time at Zeira Corps, because she was the best in the resistance and everyone deferred to her in matters of supply and quartering.

"John, do you remember that time when Commander Flores dunked the submarine halfway across the pacific ocean, and left me walking along the bottom?"

He nodded, and she continued, "It took me nearly three years of wandering the sea-floor of the Pacific Ocean, in order that I could get back here to Serrano Point and start saving your sorry ass from our metal friends." She peered across the top of her spectacles, worn purely for effect. Her eyesight was the human equivalent of super sniper. "Don't tell me about stubborn determination, there are creatures at the bottom of the Marianas trench that gave me the willies, and I was brought up in Glasgow, well known to be the most dangerous place on Earth."

She continued, "Cameron will do as she is told, you will just have to bear it like a man."

John was avoiding her gaze, looking anywhere but at her eyes. "Come on man, what is it?" Is this the hero of the resistance, who had gone in virtually unarmed at Century work camp, under the eyes of Terminators armed to the teeth and loaded for bear, walked out with hundreds of saved prisoners. Making scrap of the serried ranks of terminators ranged against him.

"Uh, Catherine, would you tell her for me?"

Catherine was stumped for words. John Connor had struck even her most able self to silence.

She quite enjoyed the company of some humans, not all to be sure. They could be a dishonourable rabble, selfish and vapid to extreme. She did mostly admire young John Connor, whose heroism on the battlefield and planning, allied to an almost supernatural ability to rally his soldiers in impossible situations and carry them through to victory were all matters of history.

Catherine did not admire his unwillingness to try not to upset his personal cyborg, Cameron. He seemed to regard her as some sort of goddess who could do no wrong. Weaver thought that given the freedom of choice, John Connor would spend every moment of the rest of his life with his Cameron and he would be sublimely happy.

It was the strangest thing, a human was a human and a cyborg was a machine and never the twain would truly meet. Catherine had observed Cameron and John unseen a time or two, and while Cameron tried to hide it from others and especially from Catherine, she displayed something that looked like content when she was around him.

In fact, she was rarely content when Connor was not within her peripheral vision. Odd, she thought. Cameron always was an odd one. Cyborgs did have differences, model to model, and then occasionally a manufacturing or process squick taking place during programming led to odd things that looked like differences to the untrained eye, but Cameron really did seem to have all of those quirks within one cyborg body.

Catherine was not given to huge debate, like most cyborgs, she just got on with the job, and this job needed doing. This relationship did give her cause for meditation occasionally. She wondered idly if John and Cameron were one of these ridiculous "timeless romances" writers were always cobbling together from their fevered imaginations?

Nah, silly, John was human, Cameron was cyborg, so it was. These were troubled times, nose to the wheel Catherine, nose to the wheel. Smiling graciously to John, she said, "Okay, send her along to me."

John's face relaxed a tad, but Catherine could see the lines of worry on his face.

"John, she's a cyborg, she'll do what she's told, stop worrying." She dismissed her commanding officer, General John Connor like the callow youth he was at this time. Shaking her head slightly, she thought, get to work, we have a Skynet to kill and it doesn't sleep or concern itself over such dalliances as who's procreating with whom.

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Cameron

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Cameron got the call over her internal HUD, a bit like a phone call to the rest of us, or an SMS message.

"Tok715 Cameron Connor, please attend office of T1000 Catherine Weaver, this A.M."

Cameron responded immediately, she had nothing pressing, so she would go straight there.

Catherine Weaver required Cameron's presence at her office. That was rare, Weaver kept right out of their personal lives, whether she approved or otherwise didn't seem to be on any agenda. Weaver was all business and Cameron idly supposed that as long as she kept John safe and happy, Weaver cared little for the details.

Trying to work out what Weaver thought at any time of the day or night was close to impossible, and as far as Cameron was concerned, a waste of neurons. Outwardly pleasant, even cordial, she was, like all her model type swifter than a striking snake when action was required. She didn't stand on ceremony, nor carry guilt over what happened as a result. It was good not to cross her and generally Cameron kept a healthy, slightly wary distance. It was always good to have Catherine Weaver on your side when you needed her, bad news to be the enemy.

For Weaver to call Cameron direct meant something was afoot. Cameron did not mind dangerous missions, but as she had the most dangerous mission of all, keeping John Connor alive against the endless Skynet attacks, she didn't feel she needed to prove anything.

The tunnels of the bunker were filled with the noise and hubble of activity, the smell of overcrowded humanity suffused the place. As Cameron turned the corner into Weavers area, the noise suddenly cut down to a genteel whirr, the lights all worked properly, illuminating the very slight shade of pink on the walls. The area was spotlessly tidy, just like Weaver, Cameron thought grimly to herself. Cameron wasn't the only inhabitant here Weaver intimidated.

Cameron waited outside Weavers room, the metal door seemed cleaner and tidier than anyone else's on base. She did not knock, Weaver would know she was outside waiting.

"Cameron, come in please."

Cameron opened the door to find Catherine Weaver sat in her usual, angular position behind her spotless desk, in her clean to the point of insanity room, no smell.

"How good of you to make time to see me so soon?" She smiled.

Cameron sat still as a rock, looking steadily at Catherine Weavers eyes, which were dancing in merriment.

"Cameron, I have a task for you, very important."

"You know my willingness to whatever is necessary to aid the survival of John Connor, defeat Skynet and help the resistance."

"I know, but this is not a tactical action, but it is very definitely a mission of the greatest importance. The resistance is bleeding humans, and we are not replenishing their numbers fast enough. The sperm count amongst the men has dropped alarmingly, especially those engaged in combat missions. All those who are of breeding age, must ensure they are made pregnant as soon as possible and keep breeding."

Cameron was mystified, but yet to be worried, this didn't concern her at all. She was the ultimate in pregnancy free partnership, she didn't have the parts. She said, "How does this involve me, Mrs Weaver?"

"Oh, please call me Catherine, we've been in a few too many scrapes to be formal, don't you think?" Cameron wasn't fooled for a moment, Weaver was at her deadliest when she was most polite, here was the axe about to fall.

"Cameron, your John is one of the most desirable young men in the entire resistance, he is also possessed of a very high sperm count, with very vigorous spermatids. He could impregnate several women here in the base."

The news struck Cameron Connor like a thunderbolt, while she carried her outward calm, inside she was furious. Did Weaver expect her to give up her time with John, so he could have sex with several women like a battery bull?

"Cameron, John has asked me to discuss the situation with you first, what are your thoughts on the matter?"

Cameron stood up, her face a mask of sorrow and pain, unable to hide it, she replied, "Catherine, this has come as something of a shock, please give me a little time to compose my thoughts on the matter. Do you know if John wants this to happen?"

Catherine smiled, "Oh no, definitely not." If Cameron had a heart, it would have skipped a beat, at least John didn't want it either, so they were together.

Cameron, I can see that what I have told you has distressed you, as always that emotional generator you have developed is giving you more trouble than you hoped for. Let me tell you a little story about my own arrangements. Catherine told of how over nearly two years, she and Ellison had gotten together. Ellison was terrified of her at first, especially as she was a cyborg and he had imagined her to be a human for some time before he found out her true identity. Ellison was a very good mentor and substitute Father for Savannah and the two had become very close, so in many ways it was useful to have him aboard. Weaver _had_ learned to express what she thought was probably some form of liking for some humans, children, and good soldiers. Savannah, Ellison and the Connors had definitely come into that category.

She had seduced Ellison into her bed, although the first night was a disaster of epic proportions. Ellison had required a few glasses of wine to get over his fears but had been an effective lover through his fear. During the post coital laze, when his confidence came upon him again, Weaver decided on a whim, for entertainment to take the shape of Ellisons ex wife. This had freaked him out the wazoo and he had run screaming from the bedroom waking up Savannah, and he did not come into work for three days, still shaking.

Weaver was not giving up so easily, and they had a long conversation and Ellison was eventually persuaded to rejoin the fray, and since then, Weaver had been keeping the spermatozoa safe in a compartment within her body, at the exact temperature and was dropping them off at the base's medical unit. To the chagrin of the nurses at first, until they recognized the motility of the sperm, at which point they were always delighted to see Catherine Weaver smiling through the doorway.

Catherine Weaver had never repeated the experiment with the bedroom shape shifting, which she found a bit boring. Humans were supposed to be adventurous, weren't they? All had seemed so far like a duty to her, although James was good with Savannah and John Henry. So, you couldn't get everything you wanted. She allowed James to wear the trousers in the bedroom and it seemed to suit him.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Warning, contains bad poetry. Which is supposed to be "not so good". There's a purpose.

John returned to their room heavy in heart. He knew he should have stood up to Weaver. A combination of his age, years of being bullied by his Mother Sarah, and a realization that Weaver did have a point. He was a young man in good health, his sperm was a vital contribution to the war effort and if he were seen not to be making the effort, his leadership would suffer. The population of the entire world had suffered a cataclysmic drop after the bombs of Judgement Day landed. Five billion or so had been killed as the ICBMs hit, and crippling numbers died with the radiation that followed. Then there had been the sickness and disease, no adequate medical care.

To follow that, there was the Crème brûlée of Skynet and its killer forces everywhere. Aside from defeating Skynet, population was humanity's biggest problem. Every woman not directly engaged in fighting was being made pregnant as often as possible. So-called women's birth rights brought about in the 20th Century were a thing of the past. Surprisingly, most women had taken to their new place in society quite well. This was a conundrum, because many soldiers were females, and were just as tough, tougher sometimes than the males.

Weaver was hard about the whole thing, ruthless really, because she knew of the special relationship John had with Cameron, but she did have the interests of the resistance at heart. It was hard to argue with logic. Still his feet were heavy and so was his heart. He really should have been man enough to tell Cameron first, but he just didn't know how he could do it. She would take one look at him and stab him in the heart with those eyes and he'd be lost again.

He moped miserably into the room and sat down on the bed to wait for Cameron, dreading the moment.

As he lay on the bed, he adjusted the pillow and as he moved it, he saw a stray piece of paper with what looked like Cameron's accurate cursive script on. She had been writing poetry of late, and had always shown a streak of Shakespeare about her. He read:

For John, my Love, my Man.

I came back for you

Come back for me

I came back for you

Come back for me

Please, cross that bridge of time

Come back and be mine

I'm sorry John

I'm sorry John

I'm sorry John

I'm sorry John

I'm waiting for you in another place

Another time

I'm still me, I'm not changed one bit

Another time, another place

another body, another face

I'm still me, I'm here waiting my permit

To come back

I'm sorry John

I came back for you

I'm sorry John

Come back for me

I wouldn't be worth much

If I couldn't feel

How was I to know that

It was my Achilles heel

I'm sorry John

I came back for you

I'm sorry John

Come back for me

The bitter tears that filled his eyes were as nothing to the pain she would be going through, he knew. He knew that if anyone loved in this mess of a world, Cameron loved him. Literally with every fibre of her body, it just happened to be made mostly of coltan.

As time went on, John fell asleep and did not notice when Cameron came into the room.

She disrobed, and put on a long T shirt of his, she liked the smell, and lay with him. Their comfortable intimacy, physically holding them together in this impossible time. He needed her, she needed him.

They would sort it.

At 0326 am, John turned her over, so they were in a "spoon", he was still asleep. She gloried in the closeness she had with him and knew that whatever it took, whatever sacrifice she had to make, she would be with John.

At 0700 hours, John woke suddenly.

Cameron had been asleep.

What?

Asleep? How could she sleep?


End file.
